The club mamas try everything they can to get me off, but nothing works until I start thinking about her tits bouncing as I thrust into her, or her perfect little mouth wrapped around my cock. She’s the first woman I’ve ever been denied because of loyalty to my club and it’s killing me. I wonder how Dani can be friends with them knowing what I’ve done to them behind closed doors. It surprises me that the girls actually took to being her friend in the first place. They’ve been known to ostracize the outsiders until they leave or get kicked out. I know for a fact Bubbles and Trixi set up one of the new club mamas when the unattached guys started to show her more attention than them. These women are more ruthless and cutthroat than we are at times. I don’t know how many cat fights I’ve broken up as VP in the time here, but at least those ended up with both women using me to fuck out their frustrations. You’d be surprised at how much a willing dick can solve problems between the women.
It was easy to avoid her while she was hidden away in her room, but Raze lifted her restriction last week. I’ve taken to hiding away in the clubhouse office I keep at the back of the clubhouse while she’s in the room. I’m sure my brothers have noticed my sudden absence, but it’s best for me until I figure shit out. It’s been quiet in terms of our impending war but I know that shit will hit the proverbial fan soon. We’ve waited too long to strike and they’ll consider that weakness. I’ve tried to convince Raze to raise the war flag but he’s not ready to make the call yet. He’s my president and I have to respect his orders, but he’s fucking wrong this time. The longer we wait, the worse it will be when we do go to war. We’ve given them too much time to prepare. They’ll likely outman us and outgun us because of our inability to act promptly. Raze is a smart man¸ but he’s jaded and too fucking cautious since they killed Jagger. He needs to find his balls again and seek the revenge we are owed.
Tyson’s discussion with Red didn’t illicit any mind blowing details about her or her roommate. Red said that the blonde had worked there for well over a year and brought in more tips than any piece of eye candy he ever hired before her. Our prisoner had only worked there for a few weeks and kept to herself. She wanted to be paid under the table, which raised red flags, but Red couldn’t elaborate on the reason for it. He did say that she avoided his advances like the plague so that at least tells me the girl has some semblance of standards.
Raze stalks into the office just as I am about to shut down the computer for the day. I’ve been reviewing the financial figures Tyson laid on my desk. We’ve made quite a bit of new money in the last few months with our protection details. We’ve even had to go so far as to recruit more than the usual amount of prospects this year to cover our bases. We can’t go to work on protection detail jobs and leave our home unprotected. The security work gives the prospects experience and teaches them the skills they need to survive in this world.
“Any particular reason you’re hiding out back here and not out with the guys?” he asks from the doorway.
“Just getting shit done,” I reply. “Someone has to look out for our best interests.” It doesn’t take him long to realize I was taking a dig at his decisions lately. I’m not about to apologize for not sugar coating my feelings. I think he’s dragging his feet, and he needs to know. It’s part of my job of being VP to keep track of our side businesses and financial reports of the club even if they aren’t the same ideals of my president. I don’t always agree with the stubborn asshole, but you just have to know how to approach it without painting a target on your head.
“That mean what I think it’s supposed to?” he asks, sliding farther into the room and plopping down in the extra chair that sits in front of the desk. Propping his feet up on my desk, he kicks dust down on the papers lying there. “You know it’s close, Hero. I can feel it in the air. Shit’s about to happen. I had to send Trax up to Chico to check on Ace’s clubhouse since he’s gone dark this morning. He’s supposed to report in soon. Hopefully Ace just has malfunctioning technology in that shithole clubhouse. You’d think with the cash they’re bringing in with the new weed extract business they’d upgrade the place.”
“I can feel it, too. Guess you could say I’m sitting here with my dick in my hand waiting for permission to cum. I want to take care of this shit and move onto bigger and badder things,” I reply.
“Nice visual, asshole. The last thing I needed was to picture you jacking off. Jesus, Hero. Your brain is more fucked up than Ratchet. At least he has an excuse, his mom was a crack whore.”
“Eh, too much shitty pussy as a kid. Fucked my brain cells to death,” I answer with a shrug, shaking the dirt off of the papers. We both laugh at my response before it’s cut off with the ringing of his phone. Pulling it from his pocket, he waves it at me to show it’s Trax calling from up north.
“Raze,” he barks into the phone. Unable to hear his conversation, a sober look settles onto his face. “Call lockdown and get your asses down here. Start your guys on calling the other chapters.” Hanging up the phone, he slams his fists on the desk, shattering his phone into pieces that scatter across the tile floor.
“They hit Ace’s clubhouse. It’s been reduced to ashes. Trax counted twenty burned bodies inside the rubble. Those fuckers burned them all alive.”
“Jesus, Raze. What about the old ladies and the club mamas? Any sign of them?”
“Nothing. They’ve run off, or they’ve been taken hostage. I guess you get your wish. We’re going to war. Call the guys and have them bring their families back to the clubhouse. We’re going dark.”
Jumping from the chair, he starts out the door. “Call Maj,” Raze demands. “Get her ass here now.”
“On it, Prez,” I say, unlocking my cell phone with a single swipe. I type in the number for the salon and a surprising voice picks up. Dani’s sexy voice penetrates my ears and wraps around my heart. Now is not the time for Shakespearean thoughts. Do your job, Hero. I berate her for answering the phone knowing damn well she’s breaking one of the rules. I bark at her to give Maj my message. Our phone conversation is cut short as Ratchet slides into the room.
“We’ve got a situation, Prez. One of our civilian contacts just called. Twisted Tribe is rolling into town from the south. We need to circle the wagons sooner rather than later.”
“Fuck!” Raze exclaims. “Get on the horn and call all the chapters home. Get Ruby an escort to stock up on groceries and tell her plan for an extended lockdown. It’s time to take these fuckers out once and for all.”
The room erupts in cheers as the men disperse to their tasks. Raze has finally called us to arms and declared war against Jagger’s murderers. I’m ready to take these fuckers down. I grab Voodoo and send him after Maj. The first lady of the club needs to be secured before any of the other women. She’s the most likely target if the fuckers are ignoring the rules about leaving women and children out of the men’s issues. I send Irons and Thrasher with Ruby to get supplies in the cage.
Harley after Harley pour into the parking lot, and Maj finally arrives on the back of Voodoo’s bike. Seeing her safe brings me relief, but it’s short-lived. Dani is nowhere to be found. Rushing to Voodoo’s bike, I check behind him to see if she’s coming up with one of the other guys.
“Where’s Dani?” I yell over the roar of his engine.
“She’s still at the salon.” I think about her not coming back with Slider. “She’s secured in the building. I’m about to go back for her.” How can he be so stupid? She could be dead by now. That bastard should have called as soon as he realized that Dani was going to be left behind. I just hope I can reach her in time.
“There’s no time. Tribe’s already rolling in. You get Maj inside and lock shit down. I’ll go after her. Get the bikes out back and the outbuildings locked down. Have the girls get the basement rooms ready. We’ve got a lot of brothers on their way.” Slapping him on the back, I jump into one of the club’s SUVs and tear down the drive. Ignoring the rules of the road and breaking just about every traffic law on the books, I make it to the salon within five minutes. Broken glass litters the sidewalk, and several of the chairs that used to be in the waiting section of the salon are lying busted next to a Silver Harley. Fuck, I’m too late.